


Off The Record

by softhuangs (yoonooh)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Jaehyun-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Oneshot, but not really, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 00:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18158972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoonooh/pseuds/softhuangs
Summary: In this world, where Doyoung is a well-known singer who travels the city and Jaehyun a journalist who sits in the editorial office all day long, they are not supposed to be acquainted with one another. That is why he politely nods at Doyoung, as if he knows of him rather than knowing him.





	Off The Record

**Author's Note:**

> there are only two things i write; one being dojae and the other angst. this one is supposedly set in the 1910's in sweden, but there are tons of anachronisms in there which i have to apologize for beforehand

In the clearest part of his memory, they are standing there. Hidden behind a bush of hydrangeas; hidden from the observing eyes of Doyoung’s father. Jaehyun wordlessly lifts a hand to caress his lover’s cheek fondly, and his heart skips a beat upon seeing a smile grow on Doyoung’s soft features. He does not think the hydrangeas, in full bloom, can measure up to Doyoung’s smile that is shining brighter than the sun in this humid June weather. Doyoung is beautiful as much as he is fragile. His blinding smile quivers slightly at the edges and his actions at times reluctant, not noticeable to anyone except for Jaehyun, because he is always there, trying to drink in every detail and inhale every breath that spells out his name. He is beautiful - a divine walking amongst humans - and truly, he is all Jaehyun has ever wanted.

“It’s been so long since we last saw one another,” Doyoung whispers in his ear. They have made sure to wander somewhere remotely far away from the others, but in this narrow space with only the two of them and nature a consistent white noise in his ears, Jaehyun believes even the slightest sound is going to be heard by the breeze passing by.

He leans in to steal a kiss from the other in lieu of a reply, swallowing the surprised gasp leaving Doyoung’s lips with ease. His hands travel along Doyoung’s sides, squeezing them slightly when he feels Doyoung reciprocate the kiss with yet another smile. Their heartbeats start beating in rhythm with each other, creating one single, united sound that is almost deafening in this lull. The prospect that Doyoung’s father and older brother are some dozen meters away, that there are strangers sitting out there who have each taken a shot at catching Doyoung’s attention several times today, that they could be caught right here - the risk makes the moment so much more worthwhile.

“My Doyoung,” Jaehyun pants when they break apart, searching for the stars in his lover’s eyes, “You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.”

And Doyoung, he beams, arms delicately put around Jaehyun’s neck tightening lightly at the compliment. This time, he is the one to lean in, but to put his cheek against Jaehyun’s chest, listening to his heart beat for him.

Doyoung’s father is an artist. A painter, to be exact. He has spent a great part of his life painting the same motive over and over again; sometimes, he adds in a detail and sometimes, he removes one. It is always the same forest of pirs and fires that tower behind the backyard of their countryside house. Therefore, Doyoung has also spent a greater part of his life staring at those trees, and imagining about the opportunities lying beyond the immense stretch of green and the endless stream of water disappearing beyond the horizon. Despite that, Doyoung’s father has seemed to gain quite a reputation for himself, and sometimes, he would invite his peers and people from the city over to his house. More often than not, some of them end up going back home with one of his paintings at the end of the day. This is how Doyoung met Jaehyun, who just happened to follow his uncle down to the countryside one day. He had not expected to fall in love with the painter’s son, knowing fully well that it would turn out to be nothing but a forbidden relationship. Doyoung’s father has higher standards that do not include someone who has almost nothing to his name like Jaehyun. Still, feelings are feelings because they cannot be stopped, and Jaehyun finds himself looking forward to the next time he gets to return to the familiar scenery, where Doyoung is.

This time, however, he is not certain if there would  be a next.

“I’m starting university after this summer,” is the only thing Jaehyun mutters into the crown of Doyoung’s head, but it is enough for the both of them to understand the implication behind the simple words. University means that Jaehyun would be busy with his studies, swept into the busy flow of a bustling city. University means that Jaehyun will not have time to come home, let alone follow his uncle to the countryside. University means a separation that neither wants to accept.

Doyoung hums, letting his arms fall and wrap around his lover’s waist instead, “Will you be back one last time before then?”

“I want to,” Jaehyun inhales, “but I have to move into my apartment in one week’s time. If not, I’ll lose the place.”

A humid breeze brushes by faintly, but the heat radiating from Doyoung burns ten times harder than this summer weather. There is a wistful look in his eyes when he lifts his head to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. Jaehyun holds it with a strained smile of his own.

 _Follow me there_ , is what he wants to say, _be mine._

“Don’t be sad,” is what he ends up saying instead. The words become stuck in his throat; a feeling he is unable to swallow.

Even then, Doyoung still stares at him, seeming as if he has read his mind, “Why can’t we just be together? Why do we hide, as if we have committed a grave sin by falling in love?”

Jaehyun grabs hold of Doyoung’s hands with his, trying to memorize the feeling of the soft hands in his own, “You know your father wouldn’t approve of me. Also, I don’t feel like I deserve you. Not yet, not like this. I need to become something - someone - worthy of your love.”

He has a feeling what the other is about to reply with before he even opens his mouth, so Jaehyun quickly puts a finger over Doyoung’s lips, before leaning in and replacing his finger with his lips. The kiss is chaste and slow this time around, as if they want to savour every single second, knowing time is about to run away, bringing with it their last moment in a while.

Before they part their separate ways, pretending to have come from two different places altogether once they are back at the gathering, Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently.

“Will there be a world for only the two of us?”

In the clearest part of his memories, those exact words as well as Doyoung’s hopeful face - Jaehyun remembers every detail as if it was yesterday. When he sits in his uncle’s coach later that evening, the sound of hooves setting a steady rhythm that fades in the background, he reaches into his pant pocket to find a letter in there. Neat, black lettering run under a red seal. There is no doubt whose letter it is.

 

_I believe in you. I will wait._

_Love,_

_Doyoung_

 

Jaehyun thinks he could never miss anyone this much already. Not in this life nor in the next one.

 

  
☆

 

 

Doyoung is quite the talk of the town, even in this part of Stockholm. It is where the rich men and women live, where the fancy parties and the high class events are held. It is where you feel out of place when you are just a young man with no family connections and an admission into a prestigious university on your sleeve is your one shot at a better life. Jaehyun decides that he can never feel completely at home, working in this area, and it unsettles him further to hear the name Doyoung every so often nowadays.

During the beginning of winter last year, a few months after Jaehyun had started at university and during his first day at his newly found job, he heard the name for the first time again after having tried to not let himself indulge with thoughts about an old lover for so long. Doyoung’s father had passed away, he heard them whisper, and Doyoung had finally been free to break away from his grasp to start a new life in the capital where he has always wanted to be. Jaehyun had attempted to write him a letter to express his condolences, but he never found the courage to post it.

It has been more than a year since they last saw one another, as of currently. Jaehyun supposes he will not be able to stop lying awake at night to the thoughts of that familiar face, that smile that had made him fall head over heels for the beautiful boy in the first place, but it is something he rather keeps to himself, a secret locked in his tiny apartment located on the outskirt of this big city. Here, in the heart of Stockholm and mingled with people who are richer and more influential than he would ever be, Jaehyun is just a mere journalist working for Stockholm’s biggest newspaper. Hearing the name Doyoung being mentioned should not be enough to catch him off guard, no matter if he has been close to doing exactly that several times.

Jaehyun cannot say he is surprised, not when Doyoung has always been the type wanting to be loved, to be showered in praises and attention. This is why a secret relationship is more detrimental to him than it is to Jaehyun, and understanding that, Jaehyun could not find it in himself to keep it going for Doyoung’s sake. That is, however, the past and right now, Doyoung is a rather famous singer in this part of town, maybe in the city even. He travels from place to place, with his voice being his most valuable treasure. He never settles for one place, though, and today may be a formal party and tomorrow a gig in a night pub. Wherever he goes - the places are always crowded, and men as well as women all try to get a glimpse of him. Most of them tries to win over his heart, but rumor says that Doyoung does not yield to anything. They say he smiles his usual polite smile, and walks away. They say Doyoung only loves himself. Others speculate that he has a secret lover, which Jaehyun knows was once true. As for himself, he chooses not to contribute to the conversations, and lets the people gossip.

Despite working in the same area, they have never crossed path, not even once. Jaehyun has to admit he does not actively seek the other out, because he has said that he would become someone of worth before he finds Doyoung again, but more often than not, he finds himself wanting to break that promise. Whenever that happens, he takes a walk along the famous boulevard running straight through this specific area, hoping that he would miraculously run into the other. Perhaps that should be able drench the longing in his heart. Though he never sees Doyoung on any of his strolls, and the fire keeps on burning endlessly.

 

  
☆

 

The editorial office of the culture department is unusually quiet when he steps inside. It is where Jaehyun spends most of his time, if not at home. Before this summer came around, he was attending lectures alongside his work, but he has chosen to take a break from his studies for the time being. Half because he needs to earn some money, but also partly because he surprisingly enjoys this line of work more than what he actually attends the lectures for. The two desks other than his in the room are unoccupied, but before Jaehyun could start wondering where everyone went, there are footsteps coming from behind him.

Jungwoo’s voice holds a child-like excitement, “Chief told me he’s going out for some business, but I think I saw a glimpse of him in one of the back rooms with someone from the sports department. As if she is not young enough to be his daughter. Taeyong took a smoke break though.”

At Jaehyun’s questioning look, still not comprehending the unusual joy on Jungwoo’s features, the other perks up, “Oh, and chief told me to tell you that you’re assigned to write the music recension for this weekend’s number instead of Taeyong.”

There is someone walking down the corridor, heading towards the office. Soon enough, Taeyong appears at the threshold just as Jaehyun puts on a scowl, because music recensions are not his thing. He writes book recensions, and that is the only thing he is truly good at. He is incapable of appreciating and understanding music the same way Taeyong does, based on the rare amounts of times they have discussed the topic together. It is almost embarrassing how lost Jaehyun is compared to the other.

Taeyong is a fresh breath in a closed space. The way his eyes shine as he talks about music, it makes Jaehyun recall if he has ever talked about something with an equal amount of passion in life and he comes up with nothing every single time. In this moment, when Taeyong leans against the doorway and observes the both of them with an indifferent gaze, Jaehyun finds himself at a loss for words, wondering if his editor in chief has gone mad. There is a faint smell of cigarette smoke clinging onto Taeyong.

“Why me?” Jaehyun asks, walking over to his desk. Taeyong shrugs before he also flops down onto his own space, organizing the messy pile of papers piled under coffee mugs and empty cigarette packs.

“I took a leave tomorrow until this Friday. My mom’s fallen sick so I have to get home as soon as I can.”

“I still have my book recension!” Jaehyun attempts weakly, but he has an inkling that it is not a fight he is going to win.

Jungwoo looks enthusiastic as ever, “Chief said that the book recension can wait until next week. The readers prefer reading the music recensions more -”

Jaehyun tries to look offended for a second.

“- especially this week’s recension.”

“Doyoung - ever heard of him?” Taeyong fills in, “That one singer everyone talks about. He’s got the main role in this new musical set to premiere tomorrow at the Royal Opera. It’s at six in the evening. I have the ticket somewhere here, I think.”

With that, Jaehyun’s heart drops ten feet underneath the ground. The steady sound of Taeyong’s typewriter rings in his ears as he lies down in bed that night. He realizes, maybe too late, the irony in which he has spent this past year running away from Doyoung as much as he is trying to find him.

 _I believe in you_ , Doyoung had written. It is funny because Jaehyun trusts whatever Doyoung tells him, but the only one he cannot trust is himself.

 

  
☆

 

 

He ends up faxing his editor in chief the next morning, faking an illness. By the following day, he has barely made it into the building before he is stopped by his colleagues from the other departments, gushing to him about yesterday and unaware of the fact that he wasn’t even there to begin with. They all proceed to gasp dramatically after he has awkwardly explained that he (unfortunately) missed the premiere. By the time he enters the office, his chief is waiting for him by his desk with a dissatisfied scowl, his wrinkles more visible than ever. Jaehyun supposes he deserves whatever’s coming.

“I can’t believe you missed yesterday’s musical. It was Doyoung. Doyoung! Oh God, Jaehyun, I was hoping that this weekend’s number would do well what with a recension on the premiere.”

Jaehyun tunes out the rest, nodding and apologizing when necessary. The man seems to have calmed down profusely by the time he is done ranting, a hint of exertion on his face despite the lack of physical motion.

“Anyhow, you better hand in a book recension within today to me instead. You will also write about the musical on next week’s recension. And I expect you to do a better job than usual, as a compensation. I’ll get you a ticket for a show next week.”

In protest, he opens his mouth to remind his chief that Taeyong - the music genius - is back in Stockholm by the next show, but the look the man sends him makes the words die on his tongue before they even come out. Jaehyun bows when the man struts out of the office, silently cursing him under his breath. When Jungwoo happily skips past the same threshold half an hour later, it’s to the sight of a grumpy Jaehyun, who holds a lost look in his eyes, slouched behind his desk. It is quite a sight, indeed.

  
  
☆

 

 

The day he sees Doyoung again falls under a weekend approaching the end of summer and the weather has gotten much more chilly compared to the merciless heat of July. It is ironic how he frequents this familiar boulevard in hope of coincidentally crossing path with the one whom he cannot forget, but the second he actually does see him for real, all Jaehyun wants to do is to escape the weight of what’s happening. The ticket to Doyoung’s musical lies heavily inside his briefcase that is propped next to him on the bench. He is in the middle of skimming through a full coverage of the ongoing war in his copy of the weekend’s newspaper when he suddenly gets the urge to look up.

He sees him before he hears the familiar, joyful laughter that accompanies an equally bright persona. Or rather, he sees _them_. If everyone in this area knows of Doyoung, then they have also heard of Karlsson. A filthy rich man who has more connections than one could guess. Jaehyun believes he just read his name somewhere on the newspaper minutes ago, something about a royal dinner in Stockholm where he was a part of. Jaehyun thinks of two things in that moment; one being that the man is around twice Doyoung’s age and the other is that they are currently walking in his direction. Luckily, Doyoung seems too focused on his companion to spot Jaehyun sitting rigidly chained to the bench, unable to move. On hindsight, Jaehyun should have continued to cover his face with the newspaper, or at least done something to keep Doyoung from seeing him. Instead, he lets the opportunity slip away and Doyoung spots him only when they pass by where he is sitting. Recognition is apparent on his face, his lips parted in slight shock and pupils quivering. Somewhere along the few expressions that appear on his face, Jaehyun can read off longing and sorrow. Not regret, though, and his chest restricts even further.

In this world, where Doyoung is a well-known singer who travels the city and Jaehyun a journalist who sits in the editorial office all day long, they are not supposed to be acquainted with one another. He understands that much. That is why he politely nods at Doyoung, as if he only knows of him rather than _knowing_ him. Doyoung answers with one of his own, lips trying to curl up into a smile too, but to Jaehyun, it comes out sad and he busies himself with the newspaper to avoid looking at them any longer. The man seems unaware of the little interaction, and Jaehyun’s stomach is filled with disgust upon thinking about the glint in the man’s eyes when he looks at Doyoung. Yet, he understands deep down that Doyoung is not stupid. He is smart - has always been - and this is his choice. Jaehyun has no options other than to respect it.

In the end, Jaehyun never continues reading the newspaper and ends up swinging by the office where he stays up until early in the morning, finishing up a way too detailed book recension that is harsher than he had expected it to be.  
  
The following Monday comes in form of a Jaehyun with a visible darkness under his drooping eyes, making Taeyong quirk an eyebrow at the former who walks into the office carrying a cloud of misery with him.

“I heard this morning that you submitted this week’s book recension yesterday,” Taeyong starts, “Jaehyun, yesterday was a Sunday and Sundays mean that we stay at home and relax, either sleeping, smoking or drinking. Can I assume that whatever anguish you’re going through right now is the source to this sudden productivity? God, I think I see why chief had wanted to hire you so badly when you hadn’t even finished your first year at university.”

Jaehyun’s mind is in too much disarray to come up with anything remotely smart as a reply. He can sense sympathy rolling off Taeyong after a few seconds.

“Is this about the music recension?”

This snaps him out of his trance, a pointed stare directed at his colleague, “What makes you think that?”

Taeyong has the audacity to snort before taking a big clunk out of his dark, bitter morning coffee, “I still remember you dragging your feverish ass to work just ‘cause you had to submit your recension for proofreading, when you could have easily faxed me or Jungwoo to do it for you. But being the perfectionist you are, you couldn’t miss one single day of work. So imagine my surprise when I heard that you were absent from the musical due to an illness and thus, unable to write an article about it. I pegged you to be more of the type to be there, even if you’re lying on your deathbed.”

News does travel fast in this place. Tell someone that a family member has passed away and within five minutes, every single department will be sending you condolences.

“It does not matter,” Jaehyun replies, “Chief gave me another ticket to the show this Wednesday. It’s not the premiere, but I don’t think it will be much different.”

Maybe Jaehyun should have thought through his words more carefully, but it is too late when something dawns on Taeyong’s face.

“Is it the musical?”

“It would sound insanely stupid if I explain it -”

“Jaehyun -”

“- how do you tell someone that you are scared to watch this damn musical because the one you love will be standing there on that stage, because we parted ways a long time ago but I still miss him terribly and because he probably doesn’t even love me anymore?”

Confusion makes a good look on Taeyong’s face, the way his big eyes grow even larger as he furrows his eyebrows and tries to let the words sink in. After a long stretch of silence, Jaehyun sighs, “Doyoung and I used to be lovers. It was over a year ago, though, before I moved here and before he became who he is today.”

Jaehyun is saved from Taeyong’s reaction when Jungwoo bursts into the office, a cup of coffee in one hand. He carefully sets it down on Jaehyun’s desk with a bright smile, and Jaehyun returns it appreciatively. Fortunately, Jungwoo does not notice the strange atmosphere lingering in the air, and soon enough, he is seated at his desk and preventing Taeyong from bringing up the conversation further. The three of them work in silence until lunch time comes around.

Passing by Jaehyun on his way out for a smoke break, Taeyong seems to hesitate, “Do you want me to go instead?”

Jaehyun wishes Taeyong could, but he had a long thought about it yesterday night. He wants to see Doyoung. It is a perfect opportunity; Doyoung does not know he will be there. Moreover, his chief has been adamant on particularly sending Jaehyun there. So he shakes his head slowly, a grateful smile on his lips.

“Thank you for the offer, Taeyong, and sorry for unleashing my burden on you. As I said, it does not matter. I’ll only be there for the purpose of work, so it will be fine.”

 Neither of them seems to believe his words, but Taeyong drops the topic anyways and does not return to it for the rest of the day.

 

  
☆

 

Certain things that make a musical worth watching are the plot, the songs, and how the music is weaved into a coherent and cohesive story that moves the audience. However, Jaehyun would partly disagree. From the moment Doyoung steps out onto the stage, seconds after the overture is over, Jaehyun understands why this musical, as well as Doyoung, is so talked about. Doyoung steals his whole attention throughout the play - an enigma who shines the brightest where he is supposed to be. His singing makes the audience sniff discreetly several times during the evening, and Jaehyun’s chest fills with pride.

However, somewhere during the second half of the play, Jaehyun lets his gaze wander and it falls on a familiar figure of a man sitting in the front row. He is momentarily thrown back into last weekend at the boulevard. His stomach churns, his focus lost from there. Jaehyun ends up walking out with fifteen minutes left of the whole thing, but he figures that he has enough to write a ten page essay about. For now, though, he is just a journalist at Stockholm’s biggest newspaper firm and writing a well-written recension about Doyoung’s musical is his sole purpose.

Whether the recension ends up being of satisfaction, though, that is debatable according to Jaehyun himself. But the painful clap he receives on the back by his editor in chief when Friday rolls around as the man reads through his final version is enough of an answer. In his peripheral, he sees Taeyong looking intently at the both of them.

His chief preens as he skims through the recension once more, “This is way better than I thought. I like that you didn’t only compliment the musical and Doyoung, but you also brought up several interesting aspects. However, you did it in the way so that one cannot directly reprimand you for that. Well done.”

When the man disappears into his own room, both Jungwoo and Taeyong give him a thumbs up. Jaehyun casts a look on the paper lying on his desk. Immediately, a paragraph catches his attention, neat strokes coming from the typewriter that mask the anger simmering underneath.

_Doyoung’s voice and talent for music give him a wide range of versatility and the power to move an audience to tears, but his acting in this musical appears at times unrefined. In other circumstances, it would be suitable to showcase an unrestrained, raw side, but in a classy piece like this, it appears overwhelming, as if Doyoung’s sole purpose is for everyone sitting at the front to acknowledge his acting abilities._

There is something dull pounding in the back of his head, and he has half a mind to change whatever he has written in a spur of the moment, but he thinks about the man whom he saw both at the boulevard and at the musical, and the irrational part of him takes over. Taeyong is wearing a concerned look on his face, noticing Jaehyun’s troubled expression, but he chooses not to comment on it. Jaehyun leaves the final version down to the proofreading and publishing department before he leaves for the day.

 

  
☆

 

It is raining when Jaehyun meets Doyoung again. The office is currently empty, the sound of the rain pouring down outside is the only background noise he has been listening to during the past hour. He is pretty sure Taeyong has gone home earlier than what he is supposed to, and Jungwoo is probably downstairs hanging with the other editors and journalists. Considering the amount of work Jaehyun has managed to finish over these past few days, indulged in his productive trance, there remains nothing much for them to do any longer today. He hears footsteps approaching the open office door, but does not pay it any mind until someone coughs deliberately and Jaehyun jumps slightly in his seat. There is a glint of amusement shining in Doyoung’s eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it comes.

Jaehyun freezes in his seat for a long while, until Doyoung awkwardly shifts on his feet and Jaehyun’s manners finally return.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Come in,” he says as he walks over to where Doyoung’s standing and closes the door, locking it as a precautionary measure just in case.

Doyoung wordlessly removes his damp coat and hangs it on the cloth rack. They stand in complete silence, staring at one another and not saying a word. Jaehyun ends up being the first one to look away. This time around, they are both alone, but the distance between them feels even greater than the last time Doyoung saw him.

“How did you find me?” Jaehyun asks. He is indeed curious. Whereas it is not a challenge to find Doyoung at all, considering one only needs to ask the right person, and they will be directed to Doyoung’s next event at once, Jaehyun is never as visible. Doyoung would need a lot of connections if he wants to find him, but Jaehyun supposes that should not be any problem, now that Doyoung knows someone who has shared the same table as the royal family.

Doyoung opens his bag and pulls out a crumpled, wet copy of what Jaehyun recognizes is last weekend’s number. The one with his musical recension. He starts breaking into a cold sweat, wondering if Doyoung is furious. Doyoung, however, he just holds a forlorn look in his eyes as he meets Jaehyun’s gaze. It is a different kind of sad look compared to that day over a year ago, but irrespective of whether it was then or now, Doyoung is hurting nonetheless.

Doyoung’s voice is quiet when he asks, “Did you really mean everything you wrote?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jaehyun hopes someone comes knocking any minute. He almost regrets locking the door, because he is unable to run away from Doyoung’s expression as he says those words, and the image replays itself behind Jaehyun’s eyelids, even if he is keeping his eyes bare open.

“Did you,” Doyoung tries again, “really mean it when you wrote that I only try to impress the people there by acting too unrefined?”

Still no reply. Jaehyun remains mute, suffocated by his own guilt rushing up his throat. He wishes Doyoung would stop asking questions he cannot answer.

“I - I thought you’d understand me, Jaehyun. Even if everyone else thinks of me that way, I had hoped you wouldn’t do that too.”

Jaehyun lifts his hand, wanting to touch Doyoung to make sure he is real, but it hovers reluctantly in the air. Doyoung grabs it, before Jaehyun has the chance to second guess himself and retract it, pulling it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. The fond gesture sends a wave of nostalgia washing over him. He does not realize he is trembling before Doyoung steps closer with a questioning look.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun finally says, “I became foolish, ‘cause I saw you and your companion that day at the boulevard. I also saw him sitting in the first row during the musical.”

“He does not mean anything to me,” Doyoung replies easily, his free hand caressing Jaehyun’s face in a gentle manner. “It’s you whom I have always wanted.”

He knows, deep down. It does not mean it has hurt any less. “I - it was just - I’m not sure what came over me. Doyoung, I didn’t mean it, whatever I wrote. I’m sorry.”

That sounds like rubbish to Jaehyun’s ears, but it seems enough for Doyoung, because he lights up. He radiates warmth in the chilly, rainy night. It almost makes Jaehyun want to cry. He allows himself to be selfish this one time, and gently cups Doyoung’s face. Doyoung looks like he is expecting it, leaning in and closing his eyes.

Their kisses have never felt this melancholy before, not during their separation last summer. It is like they both understand deep within themselves that this is a love lost to the whirlwind called life long before they even can properly put it into words. Jaehyun feels something wet on his face, and his heart skips a beat when he breaks away from the kiss to see tears streaking down Doyoung’s beautiful face.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he whispers, knowing fully well he does not have to. In this locked office, the sole witnesses to their sorrowful moment are the both of them. “At least, don’t cry ‘cause of me. I’m not worth it, and I’ll never be.”

Doyoung shakes his head, quietly in tears in between sniffs, and Jaehyun keeps on telling him not to cry.

“Jaehyun -” Doyoung murmurs.

Jaehyun hums, hugging Doyoung close to him, trying to ingrain every touch into his memories so that even after downing two bottles of whiskey, the one thing he remembers would still be the feeling of Doyoung in his arms.

“I love you,” is what Doyoung wants to say. It does not come out that way, however, and all Jaehyun hears is, “It is nice seeing you again.”

Perhaps he understands though. Love is a lot of commitment. Love is not something for the both of them, right from the beginning. He pulls away completely, pretending he missed the look on Doyoung’s face. He prefers to see Doyoung truly happy, and him standing on stage had been one of those moments that Jaehyun had wanted to capture forever. Freezing the smile filled with joy into a permanent image, so that he could carry it around everywhere he goes.

“Remember when you wrote that you would wait for me?”

It takes some seconds, but Doyoung finally remembers. He nods, not comprehending. Exhaling, Jaehyun looks everywhere but at the other, bracing himself for what he is about to say, “Don’t anymore. You don’t have to wait for me any longer. It was selfish, and stupid, of me to having let you do that.”

The glimmer in his eyes is replaced by something raw, flames bursting, the moment the words sink in. He looks like he is about to protest, but Jaehyun refuses to let him talk.

“We are never meant to be, Doyoung, don’t you understand? Back then; even now. It doesn't matter where or who we are. I don’t want to be in your way. I ground you, you’ve told me that before, but I don’t want to stop you from reaching for the stars. You deserve at least that.”

“But - but you promised,” Doyoung retorts in a raised voice, pupils shaking, “you promise we would be together by the time you become someone worthy of my love.”

The rain seems to pour down even harder right then, Doyoung’s last words drowned out by the deafening sound. But Jaehyun hears it all, with his gaze facing the dark window.

“I did promise that,” Jaehyun says, cupping Doyoung’s face tenderly. Doyoung’s eyes shine with unshed, angry tears. “But you see, the thing is, I cannot become that someone. I’m sorry I realized that too late. I’m sorry that I kept you waiting.”

And then, he kisses the side of Doyoung’s mouth. The feelings spreading in his chest feel inappropriate for a farewell kiss, so he stomps on them and pretends they do not exist. It seems as if the only constant in their relationship is the unspoken words neither have the courage to say. One year ago, Jaehyun could not find it in himself to beg Doyoung to come with him, and today, it is Doyoung, unable to ask Jaehyun to stay. His chest constricts immensely; Jaehyun barely breathes. Doyoung holds onto him with knuckles turned white, even as Jaehyun leans back, until he eventually has to let go.

That night, when Doyoung comes, he comes to return Jaehyun’s heart to its rightful owner, but what a pity to discover that Jaehyun’s heart has broken into pieces and no amount of glue could ever make it whole again. When Doyoung leaves, it is to the sound of the rain slowly subduing, and Jaehyun can only let out a sigh in the empty, cold office.

 

  
☆

 

Johnny is a tall, handsome editor who works in the politics department. Sometimes, Jaehyun would be sitting in the common lounge room and Johnny would take a seat next to him, striking up a conversation that flows easily. It’s nice, Jaehyun thinks.

It is well into winter that day, months after his first year anniversary at this job. He has also resumed his university education, and is currently juggling several recensions, miscellaneous articles as well as lectures in a week. It keeps him busy, keeps his mind from straying down paths he does not want to take. He is sipping on his morning coffee, way sweeter than how Taeyong takes his, when Johnny sits down next to him with a sigh. Jaehyun questions him with a polite smile, to which Johnny puts down the newspaper he is holding with yet another sigh. It is a copy of today’s number that Jaehyun were about to skim through during lunch later on. On hindsight, maybe that is what he should have done instead.

“You have heard of the singer Doyoung right?” Johnny asks, voice devoid of anything that shows he knows about Doyoung and Jaehyun, “I’ve been trying to get his attention for ages, and he has never seemed interested. I thought maybe he has someone else, but he has never said so either.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, nodding. He just needs to look convincing for a few minutes.

“And today, I saw this. I’m not sure what to feel about it. I’m glad I have a reason to not pursue him anymore, but the man is twice his age, oh God. I guess he’s rich, but does not Doyoung earn enough for himself? I don’t get it -”

The rest of Johnny’s voice fades away as white noise in the background, because Jaehyun does not listen any longer. His eyes are trained on one of the smaller boxes lining in a column along the yellow page. These types of news usually are less important national-wide but still hold a decent amount of local interest. He takes a deep inhale, and the ache is still there, as ever. In bold, black letters, the words read:

**Hans Karlsson**

**x**

**Doyoung Kim**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic was heavily inspired by the book “Den Allvarsamma Leken” by the Swedish author Hjalmar Söderberg. However, I haven't yet to finish the book so it has a different ending set longer in time in comparison to my fic.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this one. Maybe I should have given more closure, but it didn't sit right with me to prolong this story any further. Hope it was an enjoyable read! 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sujaems) c:


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